Sometimes, as humans, we can feel things, intuitively, before they surface to our conscious minds. Thinking back, I think I knew something bigger was arising. That little twinge of, ‘hold on tight’, was in the air. No one, however, could have predicted what was on the horizon on that last ‘real’ school day in March.
“We’ll see you in two weeks,” was the confident chant at dismissal. I tried, very hard, to share in this confidence, as my kids and I drove away. Two weeks? We can do this. Two weeks to figure it all out. Two weeks of not packing lunches, two weeks to do school and work in our pajamas. Two weeks to take a break and catch up on Netflix. Sure, no problem. All of this, as the apocalypse seemed to be taking over the other side of the world. We held our breath as we viewed the news on our TV’s, and social media outlets everywhere. We watched in amazement, as well as in despair. Two weeks turned into three months and somehow it was almost June. It was all a blur. We got tough quickly and decided, “Piece of cake. We got this. We are all in this together. Better to be safe than sorry.” Political animosity, civil unrest and toilet paper shortages consumed us. We watched. We waited. Sad moments blended into angry ones. When we lost loved ones along the way, we screamed and cried. And then we cried some more. Yet somehow, we survived. We inched closer to our summer with so many unanswered questions. Why wasn’t anything getting better? Why was the kitchen table still a makeshift classroom? Disorganization and uncertainty were a part of our everyday climate. “This doesn’t work, I miss my friends and family. I don’t want to do this anymore.” These were the battle cries heard everywhere. We fought. We shed tears. We made deals. We made way too many meals. Yet, we carried on, and we survived. Lazy beach days and ice cream for dinner seemed to ease our nerves a bit. The notion that September would be different helped us through the disarray that was spinning all around us. September, however, was not different. New agreements were made, to hang on some more, as we prayed for the best and trudged through to survive. Sure, we can eat out on the sidewalk. We had our groceries delivered each week. Nightlife was shut down by 10 p.m., or in some places, shut down completely. Collective efforts and cooperation were in place everywhere, whether by choice or mandate. “Our children are resilient. They will be fine.” We will all be stronger for it.” “We will reschedule the vacations, the parties, and hug our loved ones again soon.” We told ourselves all of this on repeat. It was optimism on fire and survival at its very finest. More months came and went, with much of the same. We blinked and it was almost December. Teachers on computer screens. Cocktails in the driveway. Birthday car parades. Holidays were spent without our families. What was happening? Why were people accepting this as our new normal? It was not normal. Creative, yes. Normal, no. We found silver linings scattered about. The laundry got put away. The closets got cleaned out. We stopped racing around like slaves to the clock. We finally had the time to call, not just text. We reconnected with the ones we wanted to. Quality time and meals spent together, check. Becoming more appreciative of what we already possessed, check. Helping the kids to be better, less selfish humans, check again. The four walls surrounding us, along with the couch, became our safe haven. 2020 closed countless doors, yet somehow it opened us up in many ways. It narrowed the focus for our future. What was truly important to us? What changes would we work towards in the months to come? It forced us to have real conversations about real life with those we hold most dear. It taught us to both question and broaden our faith in humanity, simultaneously. We could agree to disagree, all in our efforts to survive. Although without the usual fanfare, 2021 arrived with open arms. A clean slate to draw upon, where secret wishes were made in our minds. It has been a long road. Almost a year has passed, and the time ahead will undoubtedly be met with more highs and lows, uncertainty, and surprises. We will have more challenges and victories ahead of us. Of this I am certain.
And we will survive all of this, as well.
Editor’s note: Jennifer is a former elementary schoolteacher and the mother of three elementary school aged daughters. She will be covering topics related to the area schools and her column will be called The Education Beat.
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